Come In Closer
by meliz875
Summary: "She was intoxicating. She was unexpected, and Embry welcomed it, because for once in his life, there was nothing smart about what he was doing. There was nothing predictable about it. Absolutely none of it made sense, which is why he trusted it as much as he did." AU. Probably AH, but can be read however you please.


**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**AN**: So this oneshot was courtesy of a prompt given to me by my girl, Chrissi HR. It was a meme of freakin' SpongeBob SquarePants with the words "I came here to fuck bitches" on it. Clearly, my first reaction was to laugh at her and shake my head. However, the moment I stopped laughing, an idea started to form.

Well, 6.5K words later, I'm no longer the one laughing …

Anyway, this was written for fun to kick my muse in the ass. These little prompts are exactly what I need sometimes, and I have Chrissi to thank for that. Seriously, some days I heart that girl so much it hurts.

Anyway, love fest over. That being said, hope you guys enjoy!

Also ... _**HARDEST OF HEARTS ****UPDATE!** If you are a HoH reader, do not lose hope! I am picking at that story still, slowly but sure. I have about 5K words of the next chapter written, but remember what I said in my hiatus note - I want to write this story for MYSELF for awhile. It is FAR FROM ABANDONED, so stay tuned!_

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**~o0o~**

Slamming into the cool, bathroom wall, the impact didn't matter — all Embry could feel was softness, warmth, _heat _pressed against his chest, the body it emanated from prone and willing beneath his hands.

He tried opening his eyes, but her lips captured his too quickly, the movement of her mouth against his stealing all the fucking breath in his lungs and forcing his eyes shut in a useless attempt to gain his bearings.

He didn't — he _couldn't_, because she felt too good. She _tasted _too good, and Embry wanted to drown in every single feeling this girl was pushing through his veins.

This girl ... fuck, he didn't even know her name.

And the worst part was, in that moment, he didn't even care.

Which is why it didn't make sense. There was no logic behind what he was doing, no good reasoning except for a perpetual loneliness he couldn't seem to escape these days. It closely resembled restlessness — a yearning for something more, for something maybe even a little dangerous and unexpected — because life for Embry those days was a never-ending cycle of routine. It was get up, go to work, come home, go to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat.

It had been that way for a while. The monotony of it screamed at him, more than it ever had before.

Embry was _being_, but he wasn't living ... not really.

The night out was Paul's idea. He wanted them to meet his new girl. "It's nothing serious, but …" — the words were straight from Paul's mouth, and that alone was reason enough for Embry to want to decline the invitation. Paul's "girls" cycled through his life as quickly as they came. Meeting them always seemed like a complete waste of time because they usually wouldn't be around after a week anyway.

It was Paul's idea, but Quil — with a wag of his eyebrows and a lewd smirk — talked Embry into it .

"Forget about Paul's girl," Quil had pressed. "You're there to fuck some bitches. You _need _to fuck some bitches. Don't worry about anything else."

But Embry didn't do that. Embry didn't _fuck bitches_. That was Quil — that wasn't him.

Yet there he was anyway, pressing this small, soft girl against a wall, lips tracing heated patterns down her neck, hands fucking _everywhere — _his sliding beneath her dress, massaging the thin sheen of sweat clinging to her body back into her skin. Hers reached around his body, gripping his ass to pull him impossibly closer to her.

It still wasn't close enough ... because in this moment, he _was _living.

In this moment, it was so much more than _being_.

He had seen her the moment she walked into the bar. Embry was leaning against the counter, turning his glass in circles between his fingers and pretending to listen to Quil rattle on about something. Paul was late and Embry was losing his patience. For a single moment, he had thought about finding some excuse to call it a night, because really, he wasn't in the mood for any of it …

Until he saw her.

She stood inside the entrance, and he had looked up just in time. Fingers grasping her clutch tightly, she scanned the room, looking for something or someone unknown to Embry.

He watched her. Unable to move, it was all he _could _do.

She was wearing a little black cocktail dress that clung to her curves, the fabric ending just above her knees. The neckline plunged, showing off the valley between her breasts and flawless, milky-white skin. Her pink lips glistened and long, dark hair was swept over one shoulder, falling in waves down her chest.

Embry couldn't explain the feeling that had rushed through him in that moment, a sudden, intense thrall that rendered him helpless the longer he allowed his gaze to take in every square inch of her.

She was fucking _radiant_, and it was enough to take his breath away.

Quil's voice faded somewhere into the background of Embry's consciousness as the girl suddenly blinked, remembering where she was before she moved — before Embry had to remind himself to fucking breathe.

Before she walked right toward where they stood.

In that moment, Embry realized Quil had finally stopped talking. He had noticed the girl, too, and was unabashedly appraising her as she crossed the distance between them. Embry tried to act casual, but Quil practically broke his neck trying to follow her with his eyes, his head snapping in Embry's direction when the girl walked too far out of his original line of sight.

Quil squeaked — fucking _squeaked _— when she stepped up the bar directly to Embry's left.

Quil nudged him with his elbow, eyebrows wagging like they were possessed, trying to make sure Embry had noticed her, too.

Embry had noticed, and a small part of him was already savoring the faintest hints of vanilla and plum radiating from the small body next to him. He was already listening to her frame shift casually, and the sounds her heels made as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

He had already noticed the electricity that shot through his veins when she leaned against the bar, her arm inadvertently brushing against his.

He closed his eyes, fingers curling harder around his glass when she sighed dramatically next to him.

"What's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?"

He knew the words belonged to her, but it took a moment for Embry to realize she was indirectly speaking to him. Opening his eyes, he turned his head, glancing down at the previously empty spot next to him. She peered up at him unabashedly, her lips curling into a small smile when their eyes met.

_Say something, say something, say something …_

He was out of practice at this — at women in _general_. There was a reason for the lack of them in his life — for the lack of _anything_, really. Ten months earlier, the woman he had been with for years had left unexpectedly and without explanation.

The only words she had given him — after he came home to empty drawers and a half-empty closet — was a hurried sentence sent by way of a fucking text message.

_I need more … I'm sorry._

He'd had plenty of time to mull it over, to come up with conclusions and reasons that would never be confirmed or denied. The most logical explanation he could come up with was she craved something more … _exciting _than he was able to give her.

She was bored, and the saddest part was Embry didn't really blame her.

After all, what did he have to offer her? He was a car mechanic at an auto shop on the rez. He didn't make a lot of money. His house was small and his life wasn't glamorous, and she knew as well as he did that he wasn't going anywhere beyond the square-mile of La Push.

What did he have to offer _anyone_, really?

But this girl? He thought maybe he could start by at least offering her a drink. It was _something_, if nothing else.

"You have to wear less clothes, apparently," Embry spoke without thinking, lifting his hand to signal the bartender at the other end of the counter before glancing down at the girl.

"Oh, really?" she replied with a sly lift of her eyebrows.

Smiling, Embry reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. "Hypothetically," he emphasized, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill, "but I'm speaking for _most _guys. Personally, I think you look incredible in what you're wearing and that bartender is a damn idiot for ignoring you."

A grin erupted across her mouth and she glanced down, picking at a piece of imaginary lint on her dress. "You don't think it's too much? I feel a little overdressed in this place," she admitted, looking around woefully.

"Don't listen to whatever he's telling you! You're fine as hell, girl!"

Frowning, the girl rose on her tiptoes to peer over and around Embry, and he was thankful she didn't catch how hard he rolled his eyes. Quil chuckled behind Embry before she was back in front of him, a smile still on her mouth but regarding the quieter of the two men with wide, surprised eyes.

"He's with me," Embry grumbled, his cheeks warming in embarrassment. "Just ignore him."

Still, a part of Embry was relieved when she offered Quil one more cautious look before releasing a genuine chuckle. "You should tell your friend he's definitely not going to pick up any girls with those lines."

"I've been telling him that for years," Embry replied with a shake of his head. "He doesn't listen."

Once the bartender had come to take her drink order, she turned slightly to face Embry, leaning easily against the bar rail. "So what brings you guys out tonight?"

"Meeting some people," Embry answered, bringing his whiskey and water to his lips and taking a sip.

"Me, too," she seconded. "I don't think they're here though yet."

"Neither are ours," Embry murmured as the bartender slid her rum and Coke across the counter and toward her waiting hand. Embry watched as she wrapped her palm around the glass, his eyes traveling the length of her long, slender fingers to the tips of each one, nails painted a luminescent shade of sapphire blue.

"So …" she ventured, bringing her drink to her mouth. Embry's gaze shifted with her movements until her eyes captured his over the rim of the glass. "Guess we'll just have to keep each other company until our people get here."

Embry grinned, fighting the sudden pull to look at her — nothing _but _her — and studying his glass instead.

"I guess so …"

They chatted easily about random things, and it wasn't long before Quil occupied himself with someone else on his other side, leaving Embry and this girl to their conversation. She told him how she'd just moved back to Washington not long ago, so she didn't know many people. It was one of the first times she'd gone out since returning, she told him. He told her what he did for a living, adding that it was one of the first times he'd been out in awhile, too.

And Embry silently swore at himself when she fell silent for a split second before asking, "How come?"

Taking a deep breath, Embry gave her the truncated version, not wanting to subject her to some sob story she probably wasn't interested in, especially considering it was one he was trying to put behind him.

Still, no matter how much he diluted history for the sake of this girl standing next to him, he could still see in her eyes flickers of sadness — traces of remorse she felt on _behalf _of someone else the more he talked. That hadn't been his goal — to unload any version of his baggage on her, and for a split second, he was pissed at himself for it.

"It's not a big deal," he insisted hurriedly, shaking his head and reaching for his drink.

"I know, but … what a horrible thing to do," she murmured from beside him, her words barely audible among the quickly-filling bar. "You deserve better than that."

Embry's lips parted, something inside of him twisting in a way he hadn't felt in a really long time. Her words surprised him, and he wasn't sure where they stemmed from or how she felt so confident saying them when in reality, she hardly knew him at all.

But for whatever reason, it didn't seem to matter to her because when he glanced at her, his drink forgotten, she simply smiled.

And because of that, _he _suddenly didn't care. All he _did _care about was the way she was watching him in that moment, a tangible honesty in her eyes and a softness that promised some kind of safety she probably couldn't deliver so soon.

But Embry didn't care about that either.

Inexplicably, in that moment, all he cared about was that _she _believed her words.

But he asked anyway.

"What makes you say that?"

She smiled, shrugging casually. "Because I've met a lot of men in my life. Enough to tell the good ones from the bad, and the liars from the ones who tell the truth. I can tell …," her eyes met his, and that feeling came back — the one he first felt when she walked through the door, "that you are neither a liar nor a bad guy."

He wasn't — a liar or a bad guy, just like she said, but after so many months of blaming himself for everything that went wrong and the lack of _anything _in his life, he didn't anticipate how incredibly good it would feel to hear those words fall from her lips.

This girl …

This _stranger _who'd captured his eyes, his attention … his _everything _the moment she walked in the door.

This stranger who was the first person in so long to make him feel worthy of _hers_.

Fuck, he wanted to say something — _anything _to put words to the inexplicable, _palpable _feelings inside him, but Embry had never been someone who was good with words and that moment was no exception. His head swam the longer he held her gaze, and as another infinite moment passed, he suddenly couldn't remember what he wanted to say in the first place.

He couldn't remember because he was too lost … in all of it.

She was the one who finally broke the silence.

"What are you staring at?" she asked quietly, pulling him from his thoughts.

Blinking rapidly to clear his head, Embry grinned, an ounce of clarity coming back as he realized how stupid he probably looked. Turning away, he let his distracted gaze travel over the liquor bottles lined up behind the bar. "Nothing, I mean ... it's just ... "

"What?"

Her voice was soft, patient … _intoxicating_.

Embry pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it for a moment before he released it, an anxious chuckle escaping his throat. Taking a deep, anxious breath, he turned his head just enough for his eyes to capture hers, for him to see her nose wrinkle, the corners of her mouth slowly lifting in an anticipant smile.

He offered her one in return. It was all he _could _do, because he really had no idea what else he was trying to accomplish or what would come of it, but he needed to tell her. He could only hope she would know what he meant by it, and that she wouldn't think he was some kind of creep …

Because he _had _to tell her.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, unable to look away as her lips parted in surprise, captive eyes watching him almost like he'd said something he wasn't supposed to.

Like it was something she wanted — something she _needed _to hear anyway …

Neither spoke, but he could feel himself leaning slowly toward her anyway, his gaze inherently lowering, eyes tracing the curve of her pink lips. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to taste her, to breathe in this beautiful girl that had inexplicably grabbed hold of him the moment she walked through the door.

Before he had a chance to do anything, though, she blinked, breaking his reverie when her eyes jerked away.

"I, uh …" she stammered, a sheepish smile spreading across her mouth. Venturing a cautious glance at Embry, she took a step back. "I need to go to the ladies room."

But before she went, her smile turned warm, an expression filled with a hundred words she didn't speak and even more meanings behind them.

He watched her go, his heart pounding harder with each step she took, widening the distance between them. The inexplicable knot in his stomach grew until he felt Quil elbow him in the side. Regardless, Embry's eyes didn't falter.

"Dude. You can't just let her go …"

That was when Embry completely lost his head.

"I wasn't planning on it."

He could hear Quil speaking behind him, encouraging him, but Embry wasn't listening … not really. He didn't hear him because he was already moving, stepping away from the counter, his feet taking him in a different direction without seeking permission from anyone, least of all himself.

He followed her … because Embry was a man possessed, and even though he had no idea what he was doing, it still felt completely and unapologetically _right_.

The crowd in the bar practically disappeared as Embry made his way quickly and purposefully across the bar, turning into the dark hallway near the back of the building. He wasn't even sure he stopped in front of the right door, but it was too late to think about it when his arm lifted from his side, hand splayed across the wood just below a sign clearly marked 'women' as he pushed it open.

The bathroom was nearly as dark as the hallway, but there was enough light to illuminate her small frame. She stood in front of the sink, gripping the edges of the counter tight with both hands, shoulders rising and falling against her heavy, labored breaths. If she heard him come in, she didn't let on.

At least not until the sound of the door latching shut pulled her from whatever thought she was lost in.

Embry watched in the mirror as her eyes snapped up, immediately locking with his. The light from above the mirror, coupled with the darkness of the room, cast shadows on her features, bathing them in an almost ethereal glow.

God, the way she looked — the way she was looking _at him_ — made it harder than hell to breathe. The small bathroom was warm enough for Embry to already feel beads of sweat collecting on the back of his neck, made worse by the way he struggled to draw air into his lungs.

Made worse by the way she was _still fucking looking at him_.

Embry leaned back against the door as she finally looked down, but only for a moment. Turning to face him, her hands reached behind her to grasp the counter, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Embry's lips parted, but he still couldn't speak as she let her dark eyes wander, releasing his to travel down his frame, landing on his hand still curled tightly around the doorknob.

It was all the encouragement he needed.

Embry's hand moved without waiting for permission, his fingers grasping the lock on the door, turning it slowly until they both heard it slide securely into place.

The smallest of noises — the promise of solitude away from the world awaiting them just on the other side of the door — was all it took to free them both from whatever held them in place.

She moved the same time he did. Everything was moving so fast — so fucking fast, but it didn't matter. Embry's eyes closed long before his hands roughly framed her face — long before hers dug into his chest, every part of her filling his other senses just moments before his lips greedily found hers.

Just before everything inside Embry, for a single moment, fell securely into place …

He had no idea how many minutes had passed, but the feel of the cool wall behind her back brought him out of his head. The concrete was a jarring contrast from everything else, because Embry's body was on fire, the breathy moans falling from her mouth threatening to pull him apart completely.

Fingers skimming the outside of her thighs, Embry's hands disappeared farther beneath her dress, his thumbs catching the edge of her panties. Wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, she arched her back toward him, allowing him to slip the lacy fabric from her body.

It was all he needed, and Embry knew there was no turning back.

_He couldn't turn back ..._

Hands wrapping around the back of her thighs, he lifted her in one swift, effortless movement. A surprised cry slipped from her mouth as her back collided hard with the wall, his hands inadvertently pushing up her dress, the fabric gathering around her hips. In that instant, she was eye-level with Embry, giving him a single moment to look into them, to see _exactly _what they were doing reflected back at him.

_He shouldn't ... _

But she blinked, ending the moment much too soon when she gripped his face tightly, lips colliding with his, replacing it with the same urgency that possessed them the moment the door lock clicked into place.

Consuming Embry all over again.

And he welcomed it, because for once in his life, there was nothing smart about what he was doing. There was nothing predictable about it.

Absolutely none of it made sense, which is why he trusted it as much as he did.

Long, slender legs wrapped tightly around Embry's hips, holding herself there as he reached down, one hand fumbling with the button of his jeans until he freed himself from the obtrusive fabric. Arching against his body once more, her fingers curled hard into his shoulders as he thrust forward, burying his aching cock inside her warm, wet heat without a single moment of hesitation.

Fuck, it was so much as Embry held himself there for a moment, white-hot flashes of light misfiring behind closed eyelids. His head was swimming, feeling her body around his.

It was _too much_, yet entirely not enough.

_He needed more …_

And he took it, hanging onto her — this girl whose name he still didn't know — with everything he had inside him, running his nose along the curve of her neck as he pulled out, slamming into her again. A guttural cry escaped her small body, her knees digging helplessly and roughly into his ribs. Still, her hands held him tighter as he moved — slowly at first before his strokes became faster, harder, more purposeful. Fingernails dug unforgivingly into his flesh, reassuring Embry that she didn't want him to stop, that she wanted this for her own reasons and possibly just as much as he did.

As her fingers knotted through his hair and hot puffs of breath grazed his cheek, he _knew _she did.

"Fuck … ," she breathed, nipping at his earlobe with her teeth just before Embry slowed his movements, circling his hips and pushing into her again at an agonizingly slow pace. She moaned, the sound prompting a visceral shudder to tear up Embry's spine. "Don't stop … please. _Please_."

A growl formed in his chest and he planted his feet on the floor, bracing himself — preparing to give her what she wanted because in that moment, he would give her _anything. _All she had to do was ask.

Dragging his tongue along her pulse, Embry tasted the thin sheen of sweat collecting on her skin before he straightened, giving himself more leverage. His lips brushed against her hair, traces of vanilla seeping through his senses, his movements causing her tiny body to slam into the wall — repeatedly, over and over, the sound of her intoxicating moans wrapping around Embry's insides and reigniting that fire.

It was all too much. All of it was exacerbated by way her body held his, by the way she tasted, by her smell, by the way she trembled viscerally against him.

It was _all too much_, and Embry's movements became frantic, his rhythm faltering as her head rolled back, as her body clamped down around him and his own release unraveled deep inside him.

And with a desperate, primal cry, every bit of tension — every unexplained urge, every flicker of need he held inside him — exploded, emptying into this girl who, at the moment, held Embry in the palm of her hand.

Neither moved for several long moments, both of them nearly paralyzed and delirious from the sensations coursing through their bodies, both of them trying desperately to catch their breath. The air in the small bathroom reeked of sweat and sex, undeniable proof of what just happened, but as Embry refused to let her go, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Turning his face, he could see she was still shaking, eyes closed as she came down from her own high — as she tried to gather her own bearings. Bracing himself against the wall with one arm, Embry held her with the other. Leaning in, he placed gentle kiss after gentle kiss on her hair, her temple, her cheek, until she finally gave him the smallest of smiles.

Until she finally opened her eyes.

When she slowly turned her head to meet his gaze, Embry tried to ignore the flicker of regret he swore he saw resting in them.

Whatever he saw disappeared as quickly as it came, though. She leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Embry's lips, the gesture a sharp contrast from everything else — so much slower than what came before.

Pulling back, she ended it entirely too soon, quickly turning away before Embry could come to anymore conclusions.

Embry tried to ignore the pang of disappointment he felt in his gut, a foreign, cloying sensation he wasn't used to and couldn't explain. Taking a step back, the sharp gasp that escaped her throat when he pulled out of her gave birth to an involuntary shudder of pleasure at the base of his spine. Placing her back on two feet, Embry forced himself to step away, to turn around and give her some semblance of privacy to put herself back together while he did the same.

What they did … that wasn't him, but he still hoped that what he saw reflected back in that single moment of uncertainty in her eyes wasn't what he thought.

That maybe this wasn't exactly what Quil had told him to do.

That maybe it wasn't _exactly _what it appeared to be.

"I … " Her voice was distant. It sounded a million miles away when she spoke up from behind him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have …"

"Don't apologize," Embry interrupted, her words validating his fear as he buttoned his jeans, running a distracted hand through his disheveled hair. At the same time it surprised him, because he could hear the self-blame in her voice. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who came after you."

She didn't reply, but Embry didn't miss a strangled sound of protest when it left her throat.

"Yeah, but …" she whispered, the single word doing little to convince Embry she believed her own words.

Taking a deep breath, Embry turned to face her. She stood a couple feet away, readjusting her dress so it rested in the correct places on her body. It gave Embry a single moment to watch her, and he couldn't help but smile, the fire inside him giving way to a warmth he hadn't felt in entirely too long.

"But what?" he murmured, one eyebrow lifting curiously.

Her lips parted as she adjusted the neckline of the dress, several long seconds of silence passing between them before she finally looked at him. Shaking her head, she offered Embry a small yet suddenly shy smile. "It's just … I'm not this kind of girl."

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Embry offered her an easy smile, bits and pieces of their conversation from earlier filtering back into his mind. "I'm not this kind of guy."

Her smile widening in recognition, she bit down hard on her bottom lip to stop it. Still, a blush exploded on her cheeks, creeping slowly down her neck until it reached her chest.

It was the cutest fucking thing Embry had ever seen.

Lifting her hand to her forehead, her shoulders lifted and fell with a heavy breath before she glanced back up at him. "I can go out first, unless … "

She stopped, wide eyes watching Embry, waiting for his input. He hesitated for a single moment, unable to respond, at least not with the answer she was seeking, because he knew what it would mean. He knew the moment he did — the moment he turned around and walked out that door — there was a chance he'd never see her again.

_Never …_

"So, that's it?" he asked before he could think better about it.

There was no accusation in his tone, but her smile faded anyway, replaced by the slightest frown. Looking away, she crossed to the sink, reaching for her clutch, which was exactly where she left it. Reaching into it, she pulled out a lipstick case, removing the lid before she finally met Embry's gaze in the mirror.

"I … I don't know," she murmured, glancing down before her eyes bounced back to her reflection in the mirror. "It's just … ," she paused, staring herself down in the mirror, lipstick held tightly between her fingers.

Fuck, he couldn't explain why those words — or the ones she _didn't _say — hit him like a punch to the gut.

But she sighed before Embry could think more about it. Making a quick swipe over both lips with her lipstick, she replaced the cap on it and threw it back into her clutch. Her hand lingered there, though, and Embry was trying to think of something to say when she reached into the bag again, emerging with a pen clasped between her fingers.

Embry smiled when she turned around, a response to a similar gesture pulling at her lips.

With her clutch tucked between her arm and body, her heels clicked on the tile floor when she crossed the space separating them. Eyes meeting his, she reached out, offering Embry the pen.

Taking the pen, Embry chuckled, capturing the small hand holding the pen with his large one. He turned it gently between his fingers so her palm was facing up. Bringing the pen to her flesh, he quickly scribbled a ten-digit phone number across the lines of her skin.

"I'm, uh ... not so good at phones, but …" she murmured, swallowing before Embry's gaze slowly shifted up, meeting his eyes and holding Embry's gaze captive, "I'll … I'll call you. I could use a few more friends. Maybe … maybe we can have lunch sometime."

The way she was looking at him, cheeks still slightly flushed and her bottom lip pulled tightly between her teeth, it was too much for Embry. He wanted to be friends, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want more — more of what just happened, more of those eyes, more of her.

Which is why he couldn't help it, his free hand lifting and pushing through her hair as he leaned down, capturing her lips in one last gentle, drawn-out kiss.

For some inexplicable reason, he needed to remember how she felt, how she tasted.

All of it, just in case.

He needed to linger for just a second longer, and he was grateful when she let him.

But she pulled away just as Embry expected she would, her eyes still closed as she savored whatever moment she was trying to keep, too. Finally, her eyelids fluttered open. Embry searched them, but he could find no traces of the regret he swore he'd seen earlier.

"It was … _really _nice meeting you," she whispered with a small grin, leaning her cheek into his palm just enough for him to notice.

"Embry," he offered quickly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before he reluctantly let his hands fall to his sides.

"Embry … ," she repeated, like she was committing it to memory. She smiled, and it was the first time Embry noticed the single dimple in her right cheek.

He hadn't meant to stare, but when she took a step back and to the side, turning away from him, it pulled him from his reverie.

Signifying the end of this stolen moment Embry had a feeling he wouldn't forget, regardless of what came after.

Taking solace in her words, he turned to go on heavy feet, silently slipping from the bathroom and securing the door behind him, leaving her behind. His eyes lingered on the pen he still held in his hand as he emerged from the dark hallway into the neon lights and pulsing music that filled the bar.

Running a hand through his hair, Embry took a deep breath, ignoring the notes of vanilla and plum still lingering on his body as he approached the place at the bar where Quil was sitting.

Only this time, he wasn't by himself.

"Fuck, there you are, man!" Paul exclaimed, his errant gaze locating Embry in the crowd of people. "Quil said you went to the bathroom fifteen minutes ago. We were about to send a god damn search team in there after you."

Embry chuckled, grinning as he stepped into his abandoned place next to Quil. His whiskey and water had been refilled. Reaching for it, Embry closed his eyes, swallowing a few sips of the cool liquid and relishing the burn it created as it slid down his throat.

_It was a lot like another fire …_

Opening his eyes, Embry slammed the glass down on the bar. Throwing a glance at Paul over his shoulder, he frowned at the other man. "Wait, you weren't supposed to be here alone, were you?"

"That's what I said," Quil retorted with an exaggerated shrug. "Let me tell you, if it was just this asshole we were coming out for, I wouldn't have shaved or showered or … put on pants, to be honest."

"Thanks for your consideration, Q," Paul muttered, his hematite eyes distractedly scanning the bar. "Not gonna kill you to _not _look like fucking homeless person for a change."

"Noted, bro," Quil deadpanned, lifting his glass in a mock salute. "Where is this girl of yours anyway? Starting to think you made her up."

Embry shook his head, rolling his eyes at the pair of men next to him as he leaned against the bar, trying to hold on to the rush of whatever it was in his veins feeding this feeling of elation, of _happiness_.

Whatever it was, he wanted to hang onto it for as long as he could.

"She should be here," he heard Paul say from behind him, imagining the other man was probably checking his watch. "I told her eight o'clock, so … oh, shit! There she is!"

Smiling softly at nothing in particular as he listened to Paul's retreating footsteps, Embry took one last swallow of his drink before he straightened, placing the glass on the counter before he turned to face the others.

Before he _froze_, the same moment Quil made the smallest of horrified noises in his throat.

Before Embry felt his world quake beneath his feet.

And his heart stopped — it fucking _stopped_, all the air leaving his chest in a single exhale — when he saw the girl Paul was walking toward.

The girl … Paul's new girl.

_Paul's …_

The same girl who stood several feet away, ignoring Paul as he approached her. The same girl looking directly at Embry — _staring _at him, all the pink drained completely from her cheeks.

Embry's stomach lurched inside his body, and suddenly, despite only a few seconds earlier, his heart pounded against his ribs.

And he hoped … with every fucking thing inside him, _he hoped_ that it couldn't be. He hoped Paul was walking toward someone else, or that he would keep fucking walking once he reached her.

But he wasn't. He _didn't_.

Everything Embry had been experiencing moments earlier — that happiness, that inexplicable elation — was swept away as quickly as it came, replaced by a heavy, sickening feeling in his gut and the taste of bile in the back of his throat.

And judging by her eyes, by the way she was looking at Embry in that moment, she had no idea — no fucking clue, even though the puzzle pieces were swiftly falling together faster than she could comprehend.

Embry closed his eyes, although it was more of a slow, drawn-out blink. Trying to gather his bearings for an entirely different reason before opening them, he did just in time to see Paul stop in front of her. It was her turn to blink — once, twice, three times, the movement much too lethargic as she, too, came to her senses.

Just in time for Paul to frame her face with his hands — much like Embry had only minutes earlier — before giving her a swift, familiar kiss.

Embry was reeling, his head swimming with a million different thoughts, regrets, _questions _as Paul turned, clasping her hand and leading her to where he and Quil were standing. Embry couldn't fucking think, but in that moment, he managed to think of her — _only _her, managing to find liquid eyes already locked on him, her face a mixture of a hundred apologies …

Clouded by a heavy fog of uncertainty and confusion.

He watched her. He knew he needed to look away, but he couldn't, not even when Paul pulled her to his side. Her eyes followed Embry even when Paul spoke, more than likely introducing her.

Embry couldn't find in himself the focus needed to hear him. The words, the noise, every fucking thing around them faded the more Paul talked.

Until he said her name.

It was a name Embry probably would have been better off _not _knowing, but it was one that still reached inside him, crawling through his veins and extinguishing that overwhelming knot of dread sitting smack in the middle of his stomach.

_Just for a moment ..._

"Embry, this is Bella … Bella Swan."

The sounds of the bar, Quil next to him, Paul next to her — all of it crashed down around him, reappearing at the forefront of his consciousness when Paul closed his mouth with a grin, his words bringing Embry swiftly back to Earth.

Bella swallowed thickly, lifting her hand to offer it to Embry. Her fingers trembled, and Embry hoped like hell he was the only who noticed, his hand reaching out to take hers, shaking it gently and slowly.

She held on for a second longer than necessary, but it gave Embry the second he needed to glance at Paul.

The other man wasn't even looking at Embry. He wasn't even looking at where his hand joined with Bella's.

He was looking at her — _only _her.

_Only her ..._

It was a look Embry knew entirely too well, especially in that moment.

_Especially after everything …_

It was enough to make Embry feel like someone punched him in the stomach, because no matter what Paul said to him and the others, this girl _was _a big deal — at least to him. No matter what Embry thought before, this girl _wasn't _like the others.

And no matter what he told himself — no matter what happened after that moment and the handful of ones leading up to it — Embry was completely and undeniably screwed.

Turning his gaze back to Bella, she hesitated, lips parting helplessly as she held Embry's gaze. Taking a deep, concealed breath, Embry squeezed her hand just a little tighter before he released it, the action giving her the strength somewhere inside to offer him a composed smile.

"It's nice to meet you … ," she murmured, her voice somehow steady and clear before she stopped.

Embry took a step back, ignoring everyone else — ignoring _everything _else and everything that was sure to come after — just long enough to offer her a smile in return.

"Embry," he whispered. "It's nice to meet you, too, Bella."

* * *

.

_Well, SON OF A BITCH._

_I heart love triangles — CLEARLY — and the kinds of emotional messes only the most batshit-crazy writers want to create and clean up. ALSO clearly. _

_I won't even pretend I didn't leave this open-ended on purpose …_

_Thoughts?_


End file.
